


Late Shift

by strangelystillcrazy



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: (it is), Getting Together, M/M, NSFW, Semi-Public Sex, but it’s not gay, in a conference room, inappropriate thoughts, they fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 11:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangelystillcrazy/pseuds/strangelystillcrazy
Summary: my two law enforcement boys fuck in a conference room when pulling a late shift. that’s it.





	Late Shift

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is another thingy with avery and drake have fun <3

They’ve been pouring over a case for hours now. Daisy checked out and locked up about forty minutes ago, leaving them alone in the station. Avery has long since abandoned his tie and jacket,white button-up looking slightly rumpled with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up. He’s standing at their cork-board, studying and mulling over photos of crime scenes and suspects.

Drake is munching on a donut as he not so subtly admires Avery’s assets in his tight black slacks. They left nothing to the imagination, hugging his lower half in all the very right places. He has to blink and reassert his focus when he hears the special agent go, “Sheriff?”

He gets his feet off of the table and stands up, finishing off his donut. He wipes his hands with a napkin that he tosses into the nearby waste bin, and shoots Avery a casual, “You said something, lovely?”

The impromptu pet name is worth it when Avery blushes to the tips of his ears, cool demeanour being utterly thrown out the window. He fumbles with his words for a brief moment before jabbing his finger at one of the mugshots. “This man, I know he has something to do with the case.”

Drake tunes out the rest of Avery’s spiel, not out of malice, but more out of distraction. He shuffles closer and places his hand on the small of the agent’s back, cherishing the way he stumbled over his words, a chill running through him. Avery turns his head to look at the sheriff, his lips parted and his face reddened. “You are very affectionate today, Dunwell.”

“Mm, must be something in the water,” He mused, moving his hand lower and causing Avery to shiver and stand straighter. He can practically see the gears turning in the agent’s head, before he comes to some sort of conclusion, his mouth shutting. It’s Drake’s turn to go pink when Avery very earnestly says, “I hope I am reading the room correctly, and that you will reciprocate my feelings when I say that I would very much like to kiss you right now.”

The admission had hardly left his mouth before Drake was pushing him up against their cork-board of clues, lips crushed against the agent’s. Finally. He’d been dropping hints all week, and now it was all coming to a head.

His hands smoothed down Avery’s sides, settling on his hips with a light grip. The agent has to tip his head up to meet Drake’s mouth properly, and his hands pull the sheriff down by his neck to truly close the needed distance. Drake sinks his teeth gently into Avery’s bottom lip, and the man opens up to him instantly. And the way that Avery seems to melt and liquify under his hands when Drake introduces tongue is intoxicating in the best way.

The twinge forming in the taller’s neck is what causes him to pull away, Avery’s dissatisfied whine catching his attention. He smirks, bringing a hand up to press his thumb into the agent’s mouth, “Don’t worry darling, I’ve got an even better idea.”

He watches Avery’s pupils dilate, and admires the way his slightly puffy lips drag against his digit when he pulls it away. He’d love to see those pretty lips stretched around his dick. He voices this thought just to watch the brunet shiver and shift his stance. Drake grips his chin before he can sink to his knees like he’s sure Avery would, and kisses him again. When they part, Drake turns them so he can sit Avery up on the table.

“No-one will be back in the station tonight and I have condoms in my jacket,” Avery blurts, cheeks reddening at the _look_ Drake shoots him, smirk curling his lips. Though it’s certainly put out of his mind when Drake leans down and puts that mouth on his neck, sucking and biting a light trail down to his exposed collarbone. There’s just the sound of Avery’s stuttering breaths and Drake sucking not-quite-there marks onto his skin for awhile.

“Did the FBI tell you to carry that around at all times?” Drake asks teasingly when he pulls away to look Avery in the face, who catches his breath to shoot back, “No, but it does pay to be prepared.”

Drake just shakes his head and laughs softly as his fingers deftly unbutton Avery’s shirt, exposing more tawny skin to kiss and bite. The agent blindly reaches behind him in search of his jacket, while Drake does his best to distract him, tongue swiping across his left nipple teasingly.

Eventually they get into enough of a state of undress where Drake turns Avery around so he’s bracing his elbows on the table, freckled and bare ass on display. The sheriff grins wolfishly and leans down, hot breath meeting sensitive skin only a moment before he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh, causing Avery to jerk and nearly face plant. Drake’s chuckle in response sends a shudder through him, and Avery half scowls at him over his shoulder. The taller just swats his ass lightly, reaching over him for his own jacket, digging into an inside pocket to find his carry-on container of lube. It never hurt to be prepared.

Seeing the container tugged an amused snort from Avery, earning him a nip and the cold sensation of lube being “accidentally” dripped onto his flank. He has no time or mind to complain, however, as at that time, Drake takes it upon himself to push a finger into him. The stretch isn’t really anything yet, but he lets out a sound that’s suspiciously close to a whine anyways.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve gone straight to fucking someone,” Drake remarks, as casual as you please, like he wasn’t now two-fingers deep in Avery’s ass in their most used conference room. Avery wants to retaliate with something witty since it’s practically his brand, but then Drake curls his fingers and rubs the tips of them just so over his prostate— and he chokes on whatever he was going to say. His hips jerk and he’s trying to mindlessly fuck himself on Drake’s digits,breathless little noises escaping him.

“Ah—D-Drake, I would grea- _aah_ -greatly appreciate it if you shut up and focused on—focused on fucking me,” Avery bites out as Drake relentlessly fingers him, seemingly bent on rendering him speechless. The sheriff has the audacity to laugh at his attempts at a demand, adding a third and letting Avery adjust before crooking them just to hear him gasp. “Don’t worry bird, you’ll get what you want soon enough.”

It feels like forever before Drake withdraws his fingers and he’s left painfully empty. His head is dropped forward and he’s panting, thumb stuck between his teeth as he listens to Drake get his pants and boxers down. There’s a brief moment of Drake ripping open the wrapper on the condom, and as soon as the rubber is rolled on, he’s smearing lube over his dick, tongue sticking out between his teeth.

“You sure you want this?” The sudden question startles Avery a little, and he turns his head to see Drake, in all his jaw-dropping glory. The brunet nods and impatiently wiggles his hips in a tempting manner. “Yes, Dunwell, I thought that was clear. Unless you want me to beg for you.”

Avery means the last bit as a joke but the look on Drake’s face makes him reconsider.

And then any coherent thoughts that were still in his mind flew out the window when Drake pushed into him, one hand grasping at his ass— _spreading_ him— to get a better look. Heat crawled down his spine, like fire in his veins. The sheriff takes it slow, moving an inch or so only when he thinks Avery is adjusted enough. It’s driving the special agent crazy, so he rocks his hips back, abruptly taking Drake to the hilt and making both of them groan.

“Jesus,Avery,don’t hurt yourself,” Drake groans, fingertips digging into his flank even as he was grinding against Avery’s ass, like he was trying to press deeper into him. The brunet just laughed breathlessly, the sound twisting into a whine as Drake pulled out a little before pressing back in. The pace was killer slow at first before Drake got more confident and began to fuck Avery in earnest.

The special agent’s elbows skid on the tabletop slightly with each thrust, and each time Drake groans from above him, heat pools low in his gut. He can feel himself drooling onto the table as Drake really puts his back into it, fucking him rougher against the conference table. Avery slips an arm down to get a hand around his neglected erection, face covered with the arm still braced on the tabletop. Drake lets him, while he fucks into the tight little ass he’s been admiring since Avery showed up on his station’s doorstep. He shamelessly grips the brunet’s hips hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. He wants Avery to be thinking about this every day.

Drake’s orgasm hits him a little sooner than he’d like, but it doesn’t sound like Avery is much better, desperate moans and needy whines falling from his lips as he strokes himself to completion moments before Drake sinks as far into him as he can and release finds him. A carnal part of Drake hopes for another encounter where there’s nothing stopping him from filling Avery up and watching his cum drip out of the shorter man. That’s for another time. Hopefully.

He ties off the condom and tosses it into the trash, as well as his now empty container of lube. He’d take that out to the dumpster before they left. Avery has rolled onto his back,sweat cooling and drying all over his body. He’s panting, still red-faced,and looks pleasantly debauched. Drake hands him a napkin for the mess he’s made of his hand and stomach,and that goes into the sinful wastebin as well.

While he waits for Avery to recover, Drake admires the light bruises he left in a trail down Avery’s body, down to his waistband. They wouldn’t last the night, but that was okay.

“ _Wow_ ,” is the first thing that comes out of Avery’s mouth when he gets his breath back. Drake laughs, and he’s pulling his clothes back into order. The special agent begins buttoning his shirt with shaking fingers, swallowing a little. “Thank you for...reciprocating,Sheriff.”

Drake wrinkles his nose good-naturedly, and then smiles at Avery. “The pleasure was all mine. And please, just call me Drake.”

It’s Avery’s turn to laugh,and he slips off of the table to lean up and kiss the sheriff sweetly. It’s soft and not arousal-driven like the first ones. Drake finds himself relaxing and sinking into it. Avery is the one who pulls away and gives him a shy kind of smile, “Well, Drake, would you mind if I accompanied you home tonight?”

Drake can’t believe his luck or his ears, and he kisses Avery again just because he feels as though he can— and Avery _lets_ him. “I would not mind at all.”


End file.
